


third time's the charm

by eugyne (AreteNike)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, DISASTER GAY TAKASHI SHIROGANE, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Magic School, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dyou get the idea yet, matt puts up with him somehow, me? writing sheith with no angst? its more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eugyne
Summary: At the garrison school of magic, Keith is known for being one of the most powerful students—and least in control of his powers. Shiro takes it upon himself to help.(Written for OTPls zine!)





	third time's the charm

Today's the day.

Today, Shiro is going to talk to Keith. He's rehearsed what he's going to say, he's straightened his uniform, and he knows that, according to the standard second-year schedule, he's got about twenty minutes before Keith leaves the library.

Less, if he doesn't stop hiding in the stacks soon.

"You're so lame," his roommate, Matt, informs him far too loudly (read: normal speaking volume). "Just go talk to him."

"Shh!" Shiro shoots him a glare, then looks back around the shelf. Then, on second thought, back to Matt. "I don't know who you're talking about."

Matt snorts, which is probably fair considering Shiro has maybe been talking about Keith lately. A lot. In his defense, Keith is just... really cute.

And snarky.

And _fiery._

("And he could probably completely obliterate me, have you _seen_ how powerful he is?"

"Keep your kinks to yourself," Matt mumbled into the textbook that he was using as a pillow.)

The point is, Shiro (who gets "weekly confessions of love, Shiro, I don't know what the hell you're so worried about!") is just a little bit intimidated. Or maybe awed.

("Or maybe totally whipped—"

" _Matt!_ ")

He takes a deep breath. Now or never.

...Or he could try again tomorrow—no, he's stalling again. He just has to do it already. Why is this so hard?

"Good luck!" Matt stage whispers, shooing Shiro away.

Shiro takes another deep breath, before finally—finally!—stepping out from behind the stacks. He exhales slowly as he approaches Keith's table.

"Hey," he begins casually. "Is that intermediate rituals?"

Keith glances up from his textbook at him, brow furrowed. "Yeah? What do you want?"

"I-I just was wondering if you needed a hand..." Shiro stutters, taken aback by the abrupt question.

Keith meets his eyes this time. He doesn't look happy. "What makes you think I need help?"

"You were glaring at your book..." Shiro says weakly. This isn't going well at all.

Keith shakes his head. "I'm fine. I've got it," he says gruffly, and returns to looking at his book, leaving Shiro to stagger away.

The moment he's back around the stacks, Shiro slides to the floor, clutching his chest.

He messed up. He ruined _everything_. Now Keith will hate him forever. This is literally the end of his life.

"How'd it..." Matt comes to join him and his smile quickly fades. "...go. Not well, I'm guessing?"

"He hates me," Shiro wheezes, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"I doubt that," Matt says, sitting down next to Shiro. "...You could always try brewing a love potion."

"That's illegal," Shiro mutters into his knees.

"I won't tell anyone."

Shiro responds with a glare.

"Okay, no. Um. Do some tricks next time he comes to an aetherball game? Show off a little?"

"He doesn't go to games." Shiro hides his face again. "Not like it matters anyway, because he _hates_ me."

"Okay, drama queen," Matt says. "How about we go down to the kitchens and drown our sorrows in chocolate?"

"That won't fix anything."

"No, but at least you'll feel better."

Shiro is pretty sure that he’ll never feel better, but if he stays here Keith might notice. So he nods.

"Atta boy. Come on, Shiro." Matt gets to his feet and does his best to haul Shiro up too, with moderate success. Shiro follows him mournfully out of the library.

* * *

Shiro is still ("not _moping,_ Matt!")  _disappointed_ when Iverson asks him a couple days later to come down to his rituals class to help demonstrate a spell for them. He promises himself that he won't look for Keith among the students there—he'll just do the demonstration, answer any questions if he has to, and go.

Unfortunately, Keith is hard to miss; no one is sitting within two seats of him, even though the lecture hall is pretty full. And while yes, Shiro has heard of Keith’s tendency to lose control, that's why he offered his help in the first place, this is just….sad.

"Go ahead, Shiro," Iverson says, and Shiro startles slightly. Right, the demonstration.

Slowly, Shiro goes through each step of the spell, making sure that his movements and symbols are visible to the class. Iverson narrates, pointing out this and that—man, is it weird to be on the teaching end considering he only took this class last year—as Shiro casts successfully.

"And that's how you cast a barrier," Iverson finishes, flicking a miniature fireball at Shiro, who flinches out of reflex despite it dissipating harmlessly against the barrier. "Go ahead and try it yourselves. I doubt even Kogane can blow this one up."

There's a couple of snickers and Keith's frown deepens. Shiro flinches again. No wonder Keith was so defensive when Shiro offered his help—he probably thought he was going to be teased. Maybe... maybe he can still turn this around.

The class turns to the task, and Iverson turns to Shiro. "I want you to stick around," he says. "Some kids are gonna have questions they don't want to ask me."

"Sure," Shiro says. He doesn't have class for another hour anyway. So he watches the class—okay, he'll admit, he mostly watches Keith. The other students are murmuring to each other, correcting each other on this or that, but Keith is alone. He doesn't seem confused or anything, just focused—and Shiro doesn't remember this being a particularly difficult spell to learn—but if he has a question... well, he can only raise his hand and ask Iverson, and Shiro rather doubts that'll happen.

He's just considering going up and offering his help again—maybe this time it would go better, but then again, maybe not—when a barrier pops up around Keith. Keith looks up, wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect it to work.

Shiro gives him a thumbs up. Keith blinks at him, and he actually looks pleased for a moment before he frowns again and dispels the barrier.

"That kid always makes something explode," Iverson grunts under his breath. "I swear it's a talent."

"Too much power?" Shiro guesses.

"Or something," Iverson agrees.

The class ends soon, and a few students do come to the front to talk to Shiro—though most don't seem to really have questions. He accepts their fumbling, awestruck attempts at communication with all the grace he can muster, and keeps an eye on Keith where he's packing up. Maybe he can catch him on the way out.

Of course, it figures that by the time Keith starts toward the door, Shiro is still effectively trapped. He scrambles for an escape—he doesn't want to be rude, but Keith is almost to the door...

"Keith!" he calls out.

Keith stops and looks at him expectantly. Shit, what does he say?

"Sorry!" Shiro gives a smile and a wave. Keith looks at him like he's got two heads. Dammit. He turns back to the students before him as Keith walks out the door.

The third time better be the charm. Sooner or later he has to have a normal interaction with the guy, right?

Right??

* * *

"What if the third time _isn't_ the charm?" Shiro asks nervously. He's hiding in the stacks again.

"You'll never know until you try," Matt offers reassuringly. "And if it doesn't, I hear goat herding in Iceland is a decent career," he adds, completely ruining it.

"I hate you."

"I know. Go get 'em, tiger."

Shiro takes a deep breath and heads over to Keith's table again.

"Hey. Me again," he says, sitting this time, across from Keith. He's committing.

Keith looks up blandly. "Hi."

"I just wanted to follow up and see if you had any questions about the barrier spell." Shiro nods vaguely in the direction of the classrooms. "Seems like it worked just fine for you, but you looked, uh, surprised about it."

Keith looks a little put out, but only for a moment. Then he sighs.

"Actually, yeah," he admits. "Can you run me through it again? I wanna see something."

Shiro freezes for half a second—holy shit, _third time really is the charm_ —and then he's nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah, of course!" he says. He stretches over to pick up a stray piece of chalk further down the table, almost tipping over the chair in his enthusiasm, and starts drawing on the table. This time he's the one narrating his own actions; Keith watches attentively, until he holds out a hand.

"Wait, stop," he says. "What's that one for?"

Shiro glances down at the symbol he's just finished. "Energy conservation," he repeats. "You want to limit the amount of energy you use on a spell like this, because typically if you're casting this, you're preparing to cast a lot more." And then it clicks. "Most people aren't as powerful as you, though."

Keith squints at him suspiciously.

"I'm not making fun of you," Shiro adds carefully. "I used to have the same problem sometimes." He finishes the spell with a gesture and the chalk symbols disappear with a poof. He dispels the barrier immediately. "There are some other spells you can add that symbol to, you know. Do you want to try?"

Keith's eyes widen, but then he looks down and away.

"I'm not allowed to cast spells in the library," he mutters.

That's... not surprising. Shiro shrugs. "Then let's go to the courtyard."

Keith looks up as Shiro gets to his feet. "What, now?"

"No time like the present," Shiro says cheerfully, pocketing the chalk. "It'll only take five minutes."

He heads toward the door. After a moment, he hears the sound of a chair being pushed back, and then hurried footsteps as Keith catches up. He smiles to himself.

In the courtyard, he heads toward a clear patch of stone—students often come here to practice, so they're not alone, and the paving-stones are smudged with chalk from earlier failed attempts. He turns to Keith. Keith still looks uncertain, but he came, so Shiro has hope.

"Do you remember the symbol?" he asks, and Keith nods. Shiro hands him the chalk. "Okay. Try... try a light charm. Add it in fifth."

Keith frowns at the chalk in his hand, but he crouches and gets to drawing. "You should stand back," he says. "Just in case."

Shiro shakes his head. "It'll work."

Keith glances up at him, then shrugs and returns to drawing. Out of the corner of his eye Shiro can see other students turning to watch; he only hopes Keith won't notice. He focuses on watching Keith himself—his execution is perfect, as Shiro knew it would be, symbols small and neat and movements precise. And then he pauses just before casting, looking up.

" _Please_ stand back," he says in a small voice. All Shiro's breath leaves his lungs at once; he steps back. He can't say no.

And Keith casts the spell, and nothing explodes. Keith looks just as surprised as the first time, as a little pinpoint of light rises from his hands, illuminating his face and making his wide eyes sparkle.

Oh god, he's so beautiful, Shiro is so _screwed._

"Told you it would work," he says with a smile. Keith meets his eyes and, slowly, he smiles too.

_Definitely screwed._

"W-what else can I add it to?" Keith asks, stumbling over his words in his excitement. Shiro offers him a hand up, and he takes it.

"I can get you a list," Shiro says as he pulls him up. "There's going to be a lot of spells _not_ on that list, though."

"I have to learn control, I know," Keith says, rolling his eyes like he's heard it a hundred times, which... he probably has.

"I can help you with that too, if you want," Shiro offers before he can stop himself.

And Keith answers, without hesitation, "I'd like that." He casually brushes the chalk dust from his hands. "I gotta get to class now. Thanks, Shiro."

"No problem," Shiro says weakly asKeith heads inside. It's not until Shiro gathers himself and returns to the library too—when he sees Keith's table now empty—that he realizes Keith remembered his name.

* * *

Shiro manages to slip Keith the list—complete with instructions on _where_ to put the symbol—when they pass in the hallway the next day. It's a brief moment, since they're both on their way to different classes, but Keith gives him a little smile in thanks and Shiro is walking on air for the rest of the week.

Matt sees him grinning when he gets to class and just shakes his head.

The last thing Shiro wants is to scare Keith away when they've just barely started talking, though, so he waits one long, agonizing week before he approaches Keith in the library again.

"Hey," he says, sitting just like before. "Busy?"

"Nope." Keith closes his textbook with a snap and smiles up at him, and Shiro's heart skips a beat. "I tried all the spells on the list."

"And?"

"And every single one of them worked," Keith says, with a huff that's almost laughter. "No explosions. They just worked."

Slowly, Shiro grins. "It's a nice feeling, isn't it?"

"Yes!" And then Keith's smile fades. "How do I do that with everything else?"

Shiro's heart can't decide whether to sink at his sudden dejection, or leap at Keith asking him for help before he even had to offer (never mind that he did offer last week). So it stutters but stays put, and he nods slowly.

"That's harder," he says. "But I did it, so you can too."

Keith frowns a little at that, but he leans forward over the table anyway. "How?"

"Well," Shiro says, offering him what he hopes is a sympathetic smile. "I think you already know the answer."

Keith makes a face. "Self-control."

"Exactly. You have to rein yourself in." He pauses—he learned it himself by feel, and it's hard to put into words. "You can't put everything you have into every spell; that symbol forces the issue but it's something you can learn to do internally, too."

Keith is still making a face.

"You have to half-ass it," Shiro says, hoping that at least will make it clear. Keith snorts.

"Half-ass it? Really?"

"I mean. Essentially." Shiro shrugs. "Start with easy spells. The kind of stuff you could probably do in your sleep. That way you don't _have_ to put as much effort in, and then once you get the hang of it you can move on to harder stuff."

Keith sits back. "I don't think I've ever 'half-assed' anything in my entire life."

Shiro had kind of suspected that. He nods. "That's why it's going to be hard. You're going to care too much at first."

Keith's face crinkles. "I have to learn how to _not_ care?"

"Well, not exactly, but we can run with this if it'll help," Shiro muses. "I assume there are already things you don't care about, after all. Try applying that feeling to casting spells."

Keith makes another face.

"Think about it," Shiro suggests, standing.

"That's it?" Keith asks, brow furrowed. "We're not going to try a spell?"

Shiro raises an eyebrow. "If you want to try, then you already care too much."

Keith drops his head to his textbook and groans. Tentatively, Shiro reaches across the table and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"You _can_ do this," he says. "Practice on things that aren't spells. Don't look up what they're serving for lunch until you're at the front of the line. If you get angry about something, take a deep breath and let it go. Show up a minute late to class—not Iverson's class, but Montgomery won't dock you for it. That kind of thing."

Keith looks up and smirks. "Takashi Shirogane, star student of the Garrison School of Magic, is advising me to be late to class?"

Holy hell, he knows his full name. Shiro can feel himself blushing as he straightens up and his hand slides away from Keith's shoulder.

" _Only_ a minute," he says. "Reining yourself in and slacking off aren't really the same thing, but at least it'll get you out of your… comfort zone." He hopes.

Keith huffs. "I'll _try_."

Shiro smiles. "Let me know how it goes," he says, and makes his escape with his own name still ringing in his ears.

The next week reveals minimal progress. Keith had done some of what he suggested ("Montgomery looked at me like I'd grown a second head, and I ended up having that awful meatloaf-goop for lunch on Wednesday, so thanks for that.") but it's clear even before they head out to the courtyard that it had little effect. And the spell Keith tries blows up in his face.

"Keep working on it," Shiro suggests, brushing ash off his boots. Keith frowns at the ground.

The week after, Shiro hears arguing in the hall. He turns the corner to find Keith and another student nearly yelling at each other. There's quite an audience already, and it hasn't come to blows yet, but it looks like it might if someone doesn't intervene—and Iverson is down at the far end of the hall, approaching quickly.

And then a miracle occurs. Keith happens to glance to the side and catch Shiro's eye, and he cuts himself off mid-sentence, stiffening. He visibly takes a deep breath. And then he says, "Okay, whatever. Sorry." And he stalks back up the hall and towards the corner Shiro's still standing in as the hall erupts into murmurs.

The moment Keith’s around the corner, he slumps against the wall, gripping his hair in a fist and taking deep breaths. He does not look calm by any means.

"This isn't fucking working," he mutters. "I'm still _pissed_."

"It's progress," Shiro says evenly.

"How?!"

"You walked away."

Keith glares at him.

Shiro lifts his hands innocently. "Was it something worth getting angry over? Was it anything that will matter tomorrow? Or outside the Garrison?"

Keith huffs. "No," he says in a near growl.

"Then why is it hard to let it go?"

Keith opens his mouth—then shuts it. He thinks it over.

"Because I'm angry?" he tries, and Shiro can't help but roll his eyes. Iverson finally reaches the corner and he pauses there, looking between the two. His eye narrows thoughtfully. Keith goes pale.

But all he says is, "Carry on," before he continues down the hall. Well, at least they have Iverson's blessing for this impromptu tutoring. Keith slides to the floor.

"Still angry?" Shiro asks, stepping over to the wall to sit and join him. Keith sighs heavily.

"No."

"There you go." Shiro goes to grip his shoulder, realizes the angle is too awkward, and settles for a quick pat of his knee. Hopefully that's not too forward. "You ought to get to class."

Keith groans.

"That's the spirit," Shiro says, and Keith shoots him a glare, but he gets to his feet. Then he hesitates.

"I, uh… have a question," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you apologize? That time in class?"

Oof. Shiro takes a deep breath. "I realized that offering you help out of nowhere might've been, uh, insulting. So." He shrugs. Really, he'd blurted it out for lack of anything else to say, but it's not _completely_ wrong.

"Huh," says Keith. He looks at Shiro for a moment longer, frowning slightly, but in a way that's more thoughtful than angry. He shrugs, too, and then heads off to class.

Hopefully that was a good shrug and not a bad one. Shiro gets up before he can wallow too much and heads off to class himself.

* * *

The next time Shiro walks into the library, Keith approaches him first. Ambushes him, really, so that Shiro is left to giving Matt a pleading look and his book bag as Keith tugs on his sleeve, pulling him toward the courtyard. Matt rolls his eyes at the former and takes the latter, and Shiro follows Keith out to the courtyard.

"I think I'm getting it," Keith tells him as they stake out their usual corner. By the concentration written all over Keith's face as he starts casting, Shiro kind of doubts that, but he nods encouragingly anyway.

Sure enough, the spell still explodes. Keith groans and flops back onto the chalky stone, spread-eagled and making no attempt to dust off his singed uniform.

"It was a smaller explosion than usual," Shiro offers, and it's true. "So you _are_ making progress. You just need to rein yourself in a little more."

"I can't," Keith groans.

"You can!" Shiro makes his over to Keith's side. "You've gotten better. You _can_ do this."

"It's been weeks!"

"Patience yields focus." He offers a hand. Keith frowns but lets Shiro pull him up to sit, and with a wave of his hand, Shiro clears the chalk and ash away. "Try it again."

"I don't want to."

"Good."

Keith rolls his eyes as he reaches for the chalk and gets to drawing.

"Stand back," he grunts, and Shiro steps back obligingly. Despite his claim, Keith looks totally focused on what he's doing, and the symbols are drawn with the same neat precision as always.

This kid really doesn't know how _not_ to go all in.

And the spell explodes again.

Keith shouts wordlessly and flings the chalk across the courtyard. A few students give him dirty looks, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just rubs his face, smudging the ash there further.

"I can't do it," he grunts. He doesn't meet Shiro's eyes.

Shiro remembers when he did, the other day in the hallway, and gets an idea.

"Try it once more," he suggests gently. "Third time's the charm."

"It'll just blow up again."

"I don't think it will." Shiro goes and retrieves the piece of chalk, and when he returns Keith is sitting cross-legged and morose in front of his pile of ash. He sweeps away the ash with a foot and offers the chalk.

Keith doesn't take it. "You should just... give up on me," he says to his knees. "I'm never gonna get it, so you're wasting your time."

"No." Shiro crouches down and takes Keith's hand, placing the chalk in it. "I'm not giving up, and neither should you. Just one more try, and we can stop for the day. Okay?"

Keith sighs, but his hand closes around the chalk. He shoos Shiro away before he starts drawing. It's a kind of barrier spell, but larger than the first Shiro had taught him, more involved—like the kind you'd set around a campsite at night rather than take into battle.

Shiro waits until he's started before sitting deliberately across from Keith, well inside blast range.

"What are you doing?" Keith hisses as he's drawing, finally meeting his eyes. "Get out of the way!"

"If you don't want to hurt me," Shiro says carefully, "you have to control yourself."

He does his best to project calm even though he feels anything but. A backfiring spell won't do more than singe its caster at this level, but it can actually hurt _him_ —nothing he won't recover from, but certainly enough to send him to the infirmary.

From the panic on Keith's face, he knows this perfectly well. He also knows it's too late to stop casting, or it will _definitely_ backfire.

"Please," he whispers. Shiro only gives him a shaky smile.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, and casts.

The ground around them erupts in light, a perfect circle that shimmers and illuminates Keith's face from below as he slowly looks up. Their eyes meet for a breath.

Then Shiro laughs and scrambles over on his knees and hugs him tightly, before he can think not to. Keith freezes in place—right, maybe a hug is too much. But before Shiro can let go, Keith's arms wrap around his back, and he laughs into Shiro's shoulder.

"I did it!" he says, and the sheer joy in his voice is enough to melt Shiro on the spot.

"Told you you could," he says proudly.

Keith pulls back, but Shiro leaves his hands on Keith's shoulders, and Keith keeps a hold of his arms in turn. He's grinning wider than Shiro's ever seen, and Shiro so desperately wishes he could kiss him but he can't. He can't.

"Thank you, Shiro," Keith says, and Shiro's heart is cracking under the strain.

"Anytime, Keith," he responds.

* * *

They meet up a couple times a week, now. Keith is starting to successfully cast more spells than he fails, and there's a confidence to him that wasn't there before—the knowledge that he _can,_ and even if it backfires _this_ time he can adjust so it doesn't the _next._

And Shiro is pining harder than ever, so much so he even admits to it when Matt heckles him one night.

"Aw, man." Matt's tone changes instantly. "You're really gone for this guy."

Shiro groans into his pillow.

Instead of complaining that Shiro's going to keep him up all night with his whining, Matt comes and sits on the edge of Shiro's bed and pats his back.

"You know what I'm gonna say, right?"

"I can't _tell_ him," Shiro mumbles. "I'll ruin everything."

"He looks at you like you hung the moon, Shiro."

"That's 'cause I'm his tutor."

Matt snorts. "Right, his tutor. 'Cause you guys only ever talk about homework."

They don't. "That doesn't mean anything. We're friends."

He huffs. "You're hopeless. Want me to tell him for you?"

That makes Shiro lift his head. "Absolutely not."

"Well, you'd better do something soon, because the holiday break is coming up, and he could always find someone else..."

Shiro sits up. "You think he will?"

Matt rolls his eyes. "No, but I don't see you making a move. If someone else does..."

Oh god. What if someone else _does_ make a move? What if he meets someone over the break and stops hanging out with Shiro? But then, what if Shiro says something and Keith rejects him? What if—

"Don't panic _too_ much," Matt says quickly. "Just, like, actually say something. It _won't_ go badly. Promise."

"I'll... think about it," Shiro says.

Matt sighs, because he knows Shiro well enough to know "I'll think about it" means "I'm gonna chicken out." But he doesn't press further, just gives Shiro a final pat on the back and returns to his own bed.

Shiro doesn't sleep too well that night.

By the time break rolls around Shiro has most certainly not admitted his feelings to Keith. Keith hesitates at their goodbye and Shiro dares to hope, but all he says is, "See you next year, Shiro."

"See you, Keith," Shiro says, and spends the whole ride home alternately kicking himself and wondering if it wouldn't be too weird to send Keith an email or two or something, if they're close enough for that.

Evidently they are, because there's an email in his inbox from Keith when he gets home. It's not particularly lengthy, or detailed, just a couple of questions about a spell they'd been working on, a follow-up on a random conversation they'd had the other day ("I _told_ you a group of ferrets is called a business. Murder is for crows."), and a line wishing him a happy holiday.

Shiro has to sit down when he sees it. He may or may not reread it seven times.

Naturally, he agonizes over the response for a while. The questions are easy enough to answer, but the rest... somehow it's easier to chat in person, where he doesn't have the chance to second guess his words before they've moved on. Is he overthinking it? Definitely.

It's the little voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Matt that finally gets him to send the thing.

Keith responds later that day, and soon they're emailing back and forth almost constantly. It's nice to see his family again, sure, but Shiro finds himself spending more of his break on the computer than with them; the computer, after all, is his only link to Keith right now. Then Keith admits he's still at school.

"I don't actually have a family to go home to," Keith wrote. "So I had to stay. I've been hanging out with the janitor, mostly."

Shiro's guilt skyrockets. If Keith had mentioned it beforehand, he would've invited Keith home with him, and damn subtlety; or he'd have offered to stay and keep him company. Coran is nice, but it has to be a dismal holiday anyway, staying in a place so usually full of life but now empty and quiet. And here Shiro is with his family and he's practically ignoring them, when Keith doesn't have even that.

"You could have come back with me, if I'd known," he writes back. "You still can if you want. My family won't mind. You shouldn't have to spend the holiday alone."

"Thanks, but it's almost over, anyway," Keith responds later that day. "I'd feel bad leaving Coran here, too."

Shiro doesn't want to press him. But, privately, he makes plans to stay at school for spring break, so Keith won't have to be alone again. And then he makes an effort to spend more time with his family—but he still checks the computer frequently, just in case.

* * *

Despite staying in near constant contact with Keith over the break, Shiro is anxious to see him again. It feels like it's been months instead of weeks when he finally gets off the train back to campus, and he detours only to drop off his stuff in his and Matt's room before he makes a beeline for the library.

He doesn't know for sure that Keith will be there, other than that that's where they always meet, and if he's going to run into him anywhere his best chance is there.

Either luck is on his side or Keith was thinking the same thing—maybe a little of both—because Keith is indeed in the library when Shiro arrives. He looks up and smiles the moment Shiro comes around the stacks, and even stands to come and meet him—oh _god_ Shiro would swear he's gotten more beautiful since he left. How is it possible? How is he real?

"Hey," Keith greets. "I missed you."

Shiro might actually die, right here, right now.

"Please go out with me," he blurts, and immediately clamps a hand over his mouth. _Shit_. He can feel heat rising in his face and he can't tear his eyes away from Keith's, even though he can hardly bear to see his reaction. He fucked up. He fucked up so bad. He didn't want to say it like that, he didn't want to say it at all—

Keith doesn't stop smiling. If anything, his smile gets wider.

"Yeah," he says simply. "Of course."

That takes a moment for him to process. Shiro slowly lowers his hand.

"...Really?"

Keith huffs a laugh even as he rolls his eyes. "I just said I missed you? Yeah, really."

Shiro steps closer. "You... you actually want to?"

Keith steps closer, too. "Yes, I actually want to."

Shiro makes an embarrassing noise, and Keith laughs even as Shiro pulls him into a hug. Oh god, it's really happening.

"I missed you too," Shiro says, still trying to process that Keith said _yes._

"I figured," says Keith into his shoulder. "Also, I think you just set the rug on fire."

"Wha—" Shiro stumbles back to find the rug around him is indeed smoking. It's been _years_ since he lost control like this; he quickly waves a hand to extinguish it but little flames erupt instead.

Keith leans into his side and waves a hand too, extinguishing it for him. He's shaking, and when Shiro looks down he finds it's from barely-contained mirth. He covers his hands with his face.

Really he should have known that this was going to be embarrassing no matter how it turned.

"Guess the tables have turned," Keith teases, and Shiro groans.

**Author's Note:**

> find me [@maternalcube](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com/)


End file.
